


housed by your warmth

by skatzaa



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Kanan (Comics)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Force Telepathy (Star Wars), Penis In Vagina Sex, Porn with Feelings, Set after the start of the Kanan comics but before Order 66, Smut, They're Having Sex But There's Still a Little Bit of Pining, no beta we die like men, of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:27:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29016585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skatzaa/pseuds/skatzaa
Summary: Grey clutched Depa’s hips hard enough to bruise as she moved above him, one hand braced on his chest—seconds before it was for better leverage, but now, as she rode out the waves of her orgasm, it seemed more like much needed support.He couldn’t see much—the swell of her breast, the soft curtain of her unbound hair, moonlight glinting off the jewels on her brow for a heartbeat—but he could feel her, feel the waves of her pleasure as if they were his own.
Relationships: Depa Billaba/CC-10/994 | Grey
Kudos: 17





	housed by your warmth

**Author's Note:**

> I had this hidden away in my SW wips folder, meant to be a treat for some exchange or another but never finished. So I slapped on an ending and tossed it onto ao3. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Title from Shrike by Hozier. What can I say? I'm a basic bastard and it seemed fitting. Lol

Grey clutched Depa’s hips hard enough to bruise as she moved above him, one hand braced on his chest—seconds before it was for better leverage, but now, as she rode out the waves of her orgasm, it seemed more like much needed support. He couldn’t see much—the swell of her breast, the soft curtain of her unbound hair, moonlight glinting off the jewels on her brow for a heartbeat—but he could  _ feel  _ her, feel the waves of her pleasure as if they were his own. He struggled against giving in to them, because beneath the pleasure he could feel her exhaustion and the weight of old guilt, and he wouldn’t take his own pleasure at her expense. 

He could feel the ripples fading away into the quiet of the night, and so he got his feet under his knees, planted firmly on the cot, and rolled his hips as hers faltered. Grey wouldn’t touch her clit, knew it would be too sensitive for her right now, but he could rock against her, drawing out the heady sensation for both of them.

That was the thing, he’d learned, about sleeping with your Jedi that his brothers had failed to mention—and Grey was under no illusions about the relationship between some of the CCs from the earlier batches and their generals. 

But the thing was: even if you were as Force sensitive as a rock—which the template had helpfully passed along to every  _ vode _ in the galaxy, as far as Grey knew—someone strong in the Force could still connect with  _ you. _ He could feel what she felt catch echoes of her emotions even, especially when she was like this, her inhibitions, if not gone, then at least loosened, her heavy burdens set aside for even a short period of time.

It was confusing as fuck and just as intoxicating. 

The last ripples of her orgasm smoothed away, and suddenly, she was too far away—but as soon as he thought it, she was leaning forward, gasping into an open mouthed kiss as the change in position had him rubbing against her sweet spot. 

Depa broke the kiss to brush her cheek against his; she always said she liked his stubble, and now he experienced the rasp of it against smooth skin, the heat that sparked and fizzed low in her belly. Her lips drifted up, ghosting over the cleft of his scar, and the only thing that kept him from flinching was the calm acceptance he felt from her mind. There was no sting of self-recrimination, no drowning guilt, and so he let her continue, shifting his hips up against hers as she dragged her mouth up to his forehead, pressing a kiss to the top of the scar.

She pulled back only to press her forehead against his, rolling her hips in response, in permission. Grey breathed out, felt her breath hot on his cheek. The silken brush of her hair against his skin. The building heat and pressure, so different for her but—still the same. 

She freed a hand from his chest and brought it up to hold his face, her fingers so achingly gentle that he couldn’t help but turn into the touch, something close to a sob shaking itself loose from his chest. The edge of her palm fit so well in the space under his jaw, warm and sure. 

There was—he could feel something new from her now, a deeper need, and he brought his hand once more to her clit, varying the speed and intensity until she shuddered above him, hovering in that aching, soaring, timeless moment before crashing down. He kept circling his thumb, slick and slippery, trying to ensure he stayed right  _ there— _

She tensed, trembled, whimpered above him, a half-swallowed sound that went straight to his head and his groin. He could feel the burn that bordered on overstimulation, the sweet pleasure-pain that tore through her as he drew it out, little by little. 

_ Stars _ how he loved to see her like this, undone by his hands. Safe enough to surrender herself to his care. 

Then—soft, emphatic, Depa said,  _ Grey.” _

He shuddered and stilled, pulling his hand out from between their bodies, slowing the motion of his hips until he was motionless beneath her. He was achingly hard, but she was nearing her limit and he didn’t want to hurt her. It was fine; he would take care of it himself, later, when she had returned to her tent. That is, if he wasn’t tired enough to drop straight into sleep.

Grey let go of her hip, stroking the smooth skin lightly now, letting Depa come back to herself bit by bit. He turned his head to press a kiss to her cheek, savoring this last bit of intimacy before she would inevitably pull away. He certainly didn’t blame her—there was a level of professionality they  _ both _ had to maintain, and he would always do his duty first, knew that she would too. 

But it was moments like this that made him wish things could change. In a future after the war maybe, whatever that meant for all of them.

“Grey,” she said again, soft, sweet. She turned her own head and met him in a kiss that tugged at something deep and settled in his chest. He held her, and kissed her, and wondered how much of his thoughts she could sense in this moment.

And then Depa rolled her hips.

“You don’t—” he began, but she cut him off with another kiss.

When she pulled back she said, “Let me take care of you, too, Grey. If you would like.”

He took a breath and it shook, but still he nodded. 

She was slower now, more tender, he knew, but still she worked herself up and down above him. It didn’t matter, one way or another. He was so close; he could feel it in the way his legs trembled, the heat that threatened to overwhelm. 

Grey brought his hands down to rest on her thighs, feeling the steel behind the soft skin, the shift of well-honed muscles he had always admired. He turned his head into her hair, to feel the brush of it on his skin again. 

Depa rolled her hips again, and again, and said “What do you need, Grey?”

He grunted, unsure if he could even manage words, and she smiled. After all these years, he didn’t need to be able to see her to know when she was smiling. Especially not when he could feel her warm joy as if it were his own. 

“Just—” he gritted out, and strained upward for another kiss. She obliged him, that hand returning to hold his jaw, as she rolled her hips and his stuttered out an irregular pattern in return. It felt  _ good, _ in more ways than just the physical release, and he was  _ so close— _

And then he crested, his orgasm crashing down on him like a wave, and Depa kissed him through it. 

Later—he wasn’t sure how much later—she extracted herself from him and his bed, showing no signs of protesting knees or thighs.

Jedi endurance indeed, he thought, levering himself up onto one elbow. He watched her for a long moment as she tried to find her robes in the dark, then pushed himself upright and went to retrieve them from the chair in the corner. 

She allowed him to slide the robes over her arms and shoulders, then she gathered her hair and worked it into a sloppy braid. It would not hold under close scrutiny, but he still wasn’t confident enough in his own abilities yet to offer to braid it for her. Not that there was time for it, this late at night. 

The bond between their minds was fading, and he knew by morning that it would’ve returned to little more than a thread, barely enough for Depa to tell that he was alive and out of mortal peril. He didn’t mourn the loss; he knew her well enough without it. 

Grey smoothed the edge of the robe so it laid flat, then brought both hands to hold her face as he gave her one last kiss. He kept it gentle, and brief, and didn’t fight it when she pulled away. 

“Goodnight, Depa,” he told her, and felt her cheeks crease beneath his palms as she smiled at him again. 

“Goodnight, Grey,” she said, and then slipped from his fingers.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've posted outside of an exchange since *checks works page* July? Jesus. Anyway. As much as I enjoy exchanges, it felt nice to just write something and post it without having to check a DNW list lol
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Comments and kudos are always appreciated but never required <3
> 
> Read on,  
> Skats


End file.
